


Three

by factorielle



Category: Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-23
Updated: 2007-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:37:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unrelated, disconnected, porny bits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These snippets were once intended to be included in more plotty things. They might, therefore, make mention of now unnecessary plot points.

Hikaru doesn't look back at Kyouya until his brother is out of sight. When he does, the grin on his face is a little more penetrating than usual. "We see you watching us, you know."

Kyouya takes a drink from his bottle and manages not to choke on it.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Really?" Hikaru stretches slowly, deliberately, showing a hint of his stomach in the process. From a psychological studies point of view, it's quite fascinating that this sliver of skin has more effect on Kyouya than the dozens of times he's seen them both half-naked. From a personal point of view...

He grits his teeth and looks away.

"You keep coming," Hikaru says almost airily.

How can he tell someone this smug that they've somehow become his only reliable source of intelligent conversation that doesn't revolve around work, work, work all the time? That he's tried to use work as a distraction from Tamaki, and ended up being obsessed with it and now needs a distraction from that, too?

How do you tell the Hitachiin twins that despite the teasing and the frustration they're a good part of what's keeping you sane these days?

"You keep offering," he replies, putting the focus back on Hikaru.

Who is not even remotely fooled and pushes himself up, the side of his hand somehow coming to rest against Kyouya's on the blanket. "But we want something from you."

"And what would that be?" It's a little early in this facet of their relationship for them to be trying to spice it up by getting someone in bed with them. So what are they seeking? Entertainment? A reassurance that he'll keep to himself the knowledge that they've fallen in together, for better or worse? What is worth doing all this?

Hikaru chuckles, his thumb sliding over Kyouya's. "You don't know?" The look he gives him has historically been reserved for Tamaki and, on occasion, the Zuka Club. "Not as smart as I thought," Hikaru says while his gaze translates how stupid are you?

Kyouya doesn't respond to the provocation, and after a few seconds of silence Hikaru sighs.

"Joking aside, you should really give in now, you know. For your own good."

Resorting to threats now?

"We're going to Ageha next Friday," Hikaru says, letting 'and you're coming with us' hang in the air.

"What makes you think that anything could possibly make me follow the two of you inside a night club?"

Hikaru chuckles and presses himself a little closer to him, as if for warmth. He tilts his head slowly, until his mouth his level with Kyouya's ear.

"You want to watch us dance," he breathes. And his (their) power of suggestion is such that in those smug words Kyouya can hear the music, loud and rhythmic and primal. He can smell the smoke, feel the damp heat of hundreds of people pressed together, people who won't mind anything if they notice at all; above all he can see them, aware of nothing but each other and the music, carnal and lascivious as they move together, even at opposite ends of the floor. Sex without touch: if anyone can manage that, it's them.

No matter how much Kyouya wishes it weren't so, Hikaru is dead right.


	2. Chapter 2

This is wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this, because if ever he'd let anyone do this to him, it wouldn't have been Hikaru. It was never meant to be Hikaru and this is betrayal, isn't it?

"Stop it," Hikaru scolds, unmoving.

"Look at him." The order is barely more than a whisper against his skin, but it's a whip all the same and it sends a wave of panic through his chest. This is all wrong, wrong and a mistake and overwhelming and can't they see they're making him drown?

Hands are driven up and down his chest in a butterfly touch, so fluttering he can barely make them out - but the shiver they send through him is undeniable. Then one of them comes to cup his cheek.

"Come on," Kaoru says gently, and Kyouya feels the shape of the words on his lips. It makes him arch a little, open his mouth, pleading for a kiss. It's granted, but only for a moment.

"This," Kaoru says, and his brother punctuates by pushing himself just a little bit further inside, "is the part where we" another push, drawing another sharp intake of breath "don't think about her and you" and another and it burns inside but somehow it's not all bad "don't think about him".

He's distantly aware that there's a lesson there, but this is too much, too intense and it's like he can't breathe and his head jerks back, eyes clenching tighter as he tries to adjust.

He hears Hikaru's reaction too, a sharp exhalation of "fuck" that almost makes him laugh because that's exactly what's happening, isn't it? Then he's being kissed, slow and deep, and he feels a weight settle over him as Kaoru straddles his hips.

When the kiss is broken it feels completely natural to open his eyes.

He sees Kaoru smile. "That's it. Keep watching."

Kyouya doesn't know why it seems so important for him to be seen, but the panic has receded and the tightness almost doesn't hurt anymore.

"Kaoru..." Hikaru pleads, almost a whimper. Kaoru silently passes on the question, raising his eyebrows questioningly. It doesn't take a genius. Kyouya lets out a deep breath, and pushes back against Hikaru's hips with what little leverage he has.

"Yesss..." Hikaru starts moving inside him and Kaoru's thighs spread wider as he bends down to press their foreheads together, his cock brushing against Kyouya's stomach with each of his brother's movements. It feels incredible, they look incredible, and when Kaoru wordlessly presses the tube of lubricant in his hand Kyouya grabs it with an almost growl.

He has no experience with this but Kaoru guides him through the process with half-words and twitches of his hips, pushing back against his fingers with little mewls that go straight to Kyouya's cock.

Then finally, finally Kaoru reaches for the nightstand again and puts the condom on him. "Hikaru," he breathes out, and Hikaru says "yeah" and stops moving while Kaoru positions himself. Kyouya drinks in the sight of them as Hikaru wraps his arms around his brother's chest and pulls him back. "He's watching now," he says smugly before licking a trail up Kaoru's jugular.

Kyouya exacts revenge by squeezing, which makes Hikaru growl and bite Kaoru's neck. In turn Kaoru moans, archs his back a little further and ends the chain reaction by slamming himself down on Kyouya's cock.

It doesn't take long, after that. Because they truly are twins, and they don't need a dance floor to move in rhythm, drawing moans from his throat in a crescendo that ends in a raw scream.

He doesn't look away until his body slams back onto the bed, lax and sweaty and utterly spent. Only then does he let his eyes fall shut, for about six seconds until they disentangle themselves and one of them crashes on the bed next to him. Kyouya forces his eyes open to watch Kaoru fucking himself on his brother's cock. It only takes a few thrusts before Hikaru's body archs into him, and Kaoru follows suit a moment later, frozen in place with his mouth open and he's gorgeous.

Then Kaoru crashes down and everything becomes a tangled mess of limbs for a while.


	3. Chapter 3

Right when Kyouya is distantly wondering if he'll be allowed to get off before his legs give in, Hikaru pulls away. Kyouya lets out something that is pathetically close to a whimper and looks down.

Hikaru is looking at him intently, waiting until he has Kyouya's full attention before he moves again. Holding Kyouya's stare, he licks his lips deliberately before wrapping them around the very tip of his cock. And then, still looking, he lets go of Kyouya's hips, puts his hands behind his back, and stops moving. Expecting.

Inviting.

Kyouya bites his lower lip, but there's no way to refuse this even if he wanted to, so he puts his hands on both sides of Hikaru's head, barely taking notice of the soft hair caressing his fingers, and pushes in.

Hikaru lets him, and then again, and again, taking Kyouya to the hilt despite his eyes watering, sucking hard- and then Kyouya looks up and sees Kaoru standing just meters away, eyes wide and dark and licking his lips, and the sight does him in. Hikaru makes a choking noise but swallows nevertheless, and then pulls away just in time to not be in the way when Kyouya slides down the wall to crumble on the carpet in an undignified heap.

"Unbelievable," he hears Kaoru mutter in mock indignation. "I go away for five minutes..."

Has it really only been five minutes?

"Your fault for going away," Hikaru answers smugly, licking his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

The problem with making Tamaki talk about Haruhi these days is that short of shoving him out of the room, nothing can make him stop. (The shoving doesn't either, but it's rather satisfying and it muffles the happy sighs.)

Listening to him the whole afternoon, Kyouya pictures his patience as a fasces of highly strung wires. As he smiles at his friend and nods in all the right places, he can almost hear the threads snapping one by one. He's become better over the years, though, because he doesn't send Tamaki back home until long after dinner.

His subconscious being extremely good at reminding him of the things he's ignored during the day, Kyouya dreams of Haruhi all night.

He wakes up a little after 1 p.m. in the foulest mood he's been graced with since that messy birth business, and seriously considers throwing everything he's in charge of and everyone he ever met to the wind and spending the day in bed. But there are things a son of the Ootoris doesn't do.

The list probably includes answering an invitation only to slam whoever opened the door against the nearest wall and ravage his mouth. At least Kyouya is reasonably certain his brothers never did it. So they never heard the surprised gasp and predatory groan in rapid succession, never felt a body tense then relax then strain against theirs, hands coming up to tangle almost painfully in their hair. Their loss, Kyouya thinks distantly before he banishes away all thoughts of family. His own, at least.

"What the-" But he doesn't stop, doesn't turn around to see who's asking, because the other one finishes the sentence with a whimper and a thrust and he can't let his focus waver.

(Because this is stupid stupid stupid, and reckless and dangerous but mostly stupid and he's already used alcohol and curiosity so what's his excuse now?)

Except when someone growls something unintelligible in his ear and he feels the press of a body against his back and two arms are wrapped around him, one hand gripping his belt and the other splayed across his throat, not squeezing but still very much there. He finds it's not that hard to split his attention between the one he has trapped between him and the wall and the one who holds him down and has just attacked his neck, not nibbling and sucking like they did before but biting, biting hard, claiming by proxy. Watch what you to do my brother. I may let you touch him but never forget he is mine.

It hurts but sends a shock through his body that has him thrusting against a hard hip and that feels so good he can almost forget about the bruise he'll be sporting in the morning.

(Turtleneck and make-up or maybe a scarf can't let anyone find out can't let Tamaki find out.)

In response to the unspoken warning he pulls away from the rough kiss, only to find half-lidded eyes looking back at him dazedly. It's only for a moment, a few seconds before the helpless expression turns into a predatory smile, and Kyouya knows only one thing: at that precise moment, he's completely lost control of the situation.

He should struggle to get it back, maybe, but there's someone undoing his belt, licking a trail up his throat on both sides, putting fingers on his lips that he sucks in because there's nothing else. When he tries to reach out just to be doing something with his hands there's a dual tssk of disapproval and suddenly his hands are being held behind his back as his trousers get shoved down. He can't keep his balance without leaning fully on the body in front of him but that's just fine, if it means there can be more friction.

And there is, because they're both wearing jeans and thrusting against him in rhythm, and there's another thing to add on his list of likes, the rough fabric rubbing against his skin front and back.

He could come from this only, maybe, but a hand reaches between bodies and takes hold of his cock and strokes, just long and hard enough (anything would be good enough at this point) and he doesn't scream but it's a near thing.

The two bodies trapping him prevent him from collapsing. For a while he hears nothing but his own breathing, barely aware that someone is fastening his belt again.

"Okay. So. How about that movie then?"


End file.
